A Symphony of Moments Never to Be
by GrayRobes
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about Achmed and Grunthor. May feature some RhapsodyAchmed, may feature a GrunthorJo oneshot eventually. rated M for future chapters.
1. War is War

One:

Achmed was holding Meridion with some uneasiness and more than a little disgust. Grunthor had offered numerous times to hold the baby, but Achmed had the depressing feeling Grunthor would like to hold the baby in his monstrous jaws. He was certain Rhapsody wouldn't like that.

"Well, sir, you still think you got a chance with 'er?" Grunthor asked quietly, not really expecting an answer.

Achmed bounced the baby boy, who cooed delightedly.

"Now more than ever. When Ashe goes away, Meridion will have no father figure."

Grunthor laughed. "You say that like e's goin' ta disappear soon."

Achmed gave the golden haired wyrmkin another bounce absently. "War is war, Grunthor. Things happen."

Grunthor winked. "Right you are, sir."

**Set in the Assassin King or In Elegy for A Lost Star--not certain which I prefer. R & R, and I will write more. Actually, I will write more no matter what you guys do so I can get this obsession with Achmed and Grunthor drabbles out of my head.**


	2. The Brother

Two:

Father Halphasion tutted, his multi-toned Dhracian voice a friction filled tenor. "How can you expect to heal lives when you have no passion for them?" he asked.

The Brother, newly christened from Ysk, crossed his arms defensively as he delivered his rebuttal. "Why heal others? I don't see the use in it. What's the point in healing someone I don't care for?" Halphasion did not answer, but stared at his pupil with new eyes.

"You were aptly renamed," he said at last.

The Brother, confused, replied, "You named me this because you said my blood lore was like being a brother to all."

Halphasion smiled sadly, stretching the slender black lines of his facial skin web taut.

"The Brother, not our brother," the priest said with finality. 'Brother to all, yet akin to none."

That was the day The Brother left Father Halphasion, yet his words had set a standard for the soon-to-be greatest assassin in history.

**Set before the first Rhapsody book, Achmed's history**


	3. Mo haale maar

Three:

Mo haale maar, my hero gone  
World of star become world of bone  
Grief and pain and loss I know  
My heart is sore, my blood-tears flow  
To end my sorrow I must roam  
My terrors old, they lead me home.  
Elizabeth Haydon

Yes, he had kissed her. And yes, there was something there. And yes, he knew who she was going back to; she couldn't help herself. Underneath it all, she really was somewhat shallow, Achmed reflected. Not that he minded; she still had kissed him.

He was always waiting for her, always standing behind her, supporting her throughout, loving her unconditionally, although he knew he could never say those words to her. He had said them once, to another, so long ago, and when he'd tried to heal her…

Child of Blood, indeed.

Best not to imagine Rhapsody in that aspect, he thought. It was enough to fail one woman. He couldn't imagine Rhapsody dying. And yet, she had made it clear that she did not wish to live forever.

It was time to change her mind.

"I wish Rhapsody were here," he said miserably, relieved Grunthor wasn't there to mock him for saying it.

He touched his lips, running his tongue over them, savoring the cinnamon spice taste of her.

He wished he could tell her.

**Set in Destiny, obviously. A favorite moment by all Achmed/Rhapsody fans is the kiss scene--we know which one. not that I don't want Achmed for myself...heehee...I just can't write OC's for this series very well**.


	4. Target practice

Jo was crying, and she wasn't sure why. Something in the way that Ashe spoke to Rhapsody, something in teh way she smiled at him, was breaking her heart.

The teenager went to practice her aim with her daggers in the throne room. Grunthor, finishing what remained of a large boar, looked interested. "Oi, little miss! What're ya doin'?"

Thunk. Thunk. "Practising."

Grunthor got up, and went over to her. He gently touched her wrist, and angled it a bit lower. "Ya gotta aim a little lower ta get yer target's bulleye." Jo snatched her hand away. "Not at what I'm aiming at," she said venemously.

"An' jus' what are you aimin' at little miss?"

"Ashe's big fat head."

Grunthor laughed. "Look, don' feel too bad. If ya want, we can get a better aim while e's sleepin'." Jo couldn't help but laugh. Grunthor continued. "Or, if ya prefer, we might ask ol' Uchmed ta take a couple o' shots at 'im." Jo pouted. "Achmed always kills them with one hit." Grunthor smiled jovially. "Not if yer tellin' him not to. Ya could tell 'im where to aim."

Jo's smile was small, but Grunthor could tell he'd done his job. As he turned away, Jo called out.

"Hey, Grunthor!"

He stopped.

"Thanks. You're there for me, just like Rhapsody."

He walked onward, wondering if the teen would ever realize that he hadn't meant to be there as Rhapsody would be. He sighed. Never had he felt so confused and yet so happy.

"Yer welcome. Any time, little miss."

**Set in Prophecy, sometime in mid-novel.**


	5. A Real Woman

Five:

"Grunthor, can I come too?" Jo begged.

He sighed. "All roight, little miss. But Oi think that its dangerous."

They were going deep into the Hidden Realm, to subdue some of the rebellious clans. Jo rode with him on his horse, and Grunthor kept one humongous arm wrapped around her. every once in a while, she would swat it away, and Grunthor would wait a bit and put it back.

These were the only times he could hold Jo. She was an actual woman, not like an angel from heaven like Rhapsody. Jo had real woman smell, a combination of sweat and spice and just a bit of stink from not bathing. But she was very real, and maybe, just maybe, he was falling in love with her.

She swatted his arm away again. He put it back.

**Set in the first Rhapsody novel.**


End file.
